


Blackout

by Silent_So_Long



Series: otpprompts [16]
Category: Rammstein
Genre: M/M, Sexual Content, Tumblr Prompt, Tumblr: otpprompts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-28
Updated: 2014-12-28
Packaged: 2018-03-03 21:35:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,340
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2888720
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Silent_So_Long/pseuds/Silent_So_Long
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Richard, Paul and a power outage</p>
            </blockquote>





	Blackout

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the following prompt left upon tumblr’s otpprompts: [Imagine your OTP in a power outage. Person A is in their bed, trying to stay warm. Person B comes in and asks to stay with Person A. If it’s an OT3, then B and C come into Person A’s room, hugging and trying to get warm.](http://otpprompts.tumblr.com/post/105966365297/imagine-your-otp-in-a-power-outage-person-a-is-in)

Richard sat alone and shivering in his hotel room, wrapped tightly in his duvet to combat the worst of the chill in the air; the hotel Rammstein were currently staying in, and the streets surrounding it, were swathed in darkness and still-falling snow. The power had been out for half an hour and it didn’t look, to Richard, as though it was going to be back on any time soon; before that, the power had straggled, lights cutting in and out as the snow had grown heavier, wind battering against the sides of the building in great howling gusts. 

At first, the storm had seemed exciting; he’d stood at the window, whilst evening descended upon Dresden and watched the elements batter the great world outside. In time, it had grown too dark to see anything much anymore, and Richard had retreated to the bed, where it was warm, and cosy; he’d been in easy reach of the kettle and snacks, and had the option of entertaining himself with the laptop, the TV, and a book whilst the light had held. 

Now, since the power had gone and means of entertaining himself had been cut drastically, Richard had to admit to feeling more than a little bored; he had no candles or torch to hand, and therefore, no way of illuminating even a small patch of the room so that he could read; all he could do was watch videos on his phone, but even that had its limits. He knew that he had to conserve the phone’s battery as best he could, as he didn’t know when he would be able to charge it up again if it should finally wear down before the lights came on or morning finally arrived. Richard thought that being able to call for help should he need it was more important than watching any number of useless cat videos on YouTube. 

He checked the time upon his phone again, and saw that it had been almost half an hour since the power had cut out entirely. Richard wondered if perhaps it was time to see what the others in the band were doing, whether they’d grouped together in one room or the other, or if someone, perhaps Olli, had something more decent than Pringles to eat. 

An almost timid knock suddenly sounded at the door, knuckles rattling against the wood in a small tattoo of noise that cut through the silence in the room. Richard almost ignored the disturbance; he thought that whoever was outside was probably some kid pestering him, or some other unwanted denizen of the hotel. Then he heard Paul’s familiarly deep voice calling his name through the wooden barrier. Richard sighed in relief; Paul, at least, would be a welcome visitor and would have undoubtedly an idea or two with which to pass the sundered hours whilst the storm raged outside. 

He struggled to his feet and managed to maintain a solemn grip upon his duvet; he shuffled across the room like an ungainly mobile snowman. He heard Paul knocking again, louder that time, and the noise was accompanied by a more insistent shout of Richard’s name; Paul’s tone was concerned, yet his words were still warmed by vague irritation. 

“Coming, coming,” Richard called back, before he finally reached the door and unlocked it.

He eased it open to allow Paul entrance; the smaller man wriggled inside with a grateful grin, and Richard noticed that Paul had, miraculously, a candle held in his hand. The flame guttered, and almost threatened to be snuffed out entirely when Paul moved too quickly to avoid setting Richard alight. 

“Sorry, sorry,” Paul muttered, brow furrowed in concentration as he stilled, momentarily, until the flame had settled down and remained alight. 

“Where the hell did you even get that thing?” Richard asked, jabbing one hand into the chill of the room to point at the candle.

Whilst the light it gave was meager to say the least, Richard had to admit that even the faint glow it gave was better than no light at all. 

“It was in my suitcase,” Paul said, and Richard could just make out the embarrassed expression upon the other man’s face.

“Your suitcase. Seriously? I mean, who carries a candle in their suitcase?” Richard asked, with a sudden snort of laughter. 

“Well, it came in handy tonight, didn’t it?” Paul asked, as he pulled a goofy face at Richard.

Richard had to concede to that, despite his earlier scoffing. At least Paul had been prepared, strange though it seemed to him to stuff candles in suitcases whilst packing for tours. 

“What are you up to in here?” Paul asked, as he cast his gaze about the dark room.

“I’m making my own porn movie in here, complete with a film set like a fucking beach in Hawaii,” Richard said. “What d’you think I’m doing?” 

Paul., at least, gave him a wide grin at that, candle lighting up his features just enough to give his usual friendly grin an almost menacing cast. 

“Okay, that was a stupid question,” he conceded, with a nod. 

“What are you doing? Why aren’t you in your own room?” Richard asked.

“I got bored, and I was cold,” Paul replied, without preamble. “And I wanted to see what you were up to.” 

“Well, nothing much,” Richard said, finally, with a shrug. 

Paul grunted, before he set the candle down upon the side of the bedside cabinet; the flame guttered and threatened to snuff itself out again with the sharp movement. Paul hissed and flapped his hands ineffectually at the candle; Richard grimaced despite himself, as Paul had inadvertently created even more of a draught with his unconsciously pleading gestures. The flame settled and so did Paul, but he looked cold, body racked by the beginnings of the first shivers; it was only then that Richard realized that Paul had only his pyjamas on, which amounted to little more than a long sleeved t shirt and thin cotton trousers. Richard sighed; whilst he wore little more than Paul did, at least he had the advantage of being wrapped in a duvet.

“So what are you going to do? Stay here?” he asked, as he settled back upon the bed awkwardly, duvet hampering his movements slightly.

He almost unbalanced himself from the side of the bed, duvet dragging on the edge of the mattress, half pulled from his body. He felt the first cold slap of air against the exposed skin of his back where his t shirt had ridden up somewhere along the line; it was only then that he realized just how warm he had become beneath the cover of the duvet. 

“I was thinking about it,” Paul replied, with a shrug that was nonchalant. 

Richard noticed the almost sly smile on Paul’s face, that almost hid the hopeful look in the other man’s eyes. Richard sighed, and pretended to be a little put out by Paul’s presence; in reality, he was glad for the company that Paul would provide, and the warmth his body would add beneath the covers, if Paul deigned to join him on the bed. 

“Well then, in that case, I suppose you’d best get under the covers,” Richard said, with a loud sigh. “You’ll only get cold.” 

“Okay, if you insist,” Paul said, mirroring Richard’s put-upon tone almost perfectly. 

Richard couldn’t miss the suddenly wicked grin that flittered across Paul's face at that, as he climbed up on the edge of the bed; he crawled beneath the covers with Richard when the other men held the duvet up in open invitation. His knee knocked against Richard’s own as he fidgeted beneath the duvet, and his elbow connected sharply with Richard’s ribs. Richard protested but without true rancour; instead, he waited until Paul settled down properly before he pulled the duvet about them a little more closely. 

Richard could barely see Paul’s smile at close range in the darkness, cheeks tinged slightly with orange light from the candle. Already Richard could feel Paul’s body warmth settling out into his own; it made him feel a little better, and a little less alone, knowing that Paul was there with them. 

“So now what?” Paul asked next, when the silence stretched out into ticking minutes between them. 

“Wait it out, of course,” Richard said, with an affectionately derisive snort. “What do you want to do? Make a three course meal or something?” 

“A meal would be nice,” Paul said, wistfully. “Pizza, perhaps. The nice kind with lots of extra cheese and pepperoni.” 

“Don’t start, Paul,” Richard said, with a groan.

“Start what? I’m not starting anything,” Paul protested, yet there was that cheeky little grin that Richard was so used to upon his face. 

“You are. You’re starting that cliched crap like talking about food when you know full well we can’t do anything about it,” Richard said. “It’s what they do in bad B-movies.” 

“Well, then, I suppose I’m just a walking cliche,” Paul said, with a sudden laugh and a shrug that moved the duvet. “You love it. Deal with it.”

“You said it, not me,” Richard muttered, and earned himself a nudge in the ribs from Paul’s elbow. 

“Seriously, though we should have a pizza when the lights come on,” Paul said and his tone had turned wistful. “I’ll even spring for garlic bread and extra fries, if you want them.”

“Well, garlic bread would be nice, right about now,” Richard replied, without thinking.

“Now who’s being cliched, Reesh?” Paul asked, slyly.

“Shut the fuck up, Paul,” Richard said, after a brief pause. 

Paul\s laughter rumbled out into the dim room, even as he turned his face to the window. The curtains had been left open by Richard earlier in the evening, and through the gap in the curtains, they could just about make out the snow falling past the glass in fat white flakes. Some of the flakes melted away as soon as they touched the pane, whilst other more tenacious ones did not. Richard felt a little transfixed by the sight, and so did not immediately react when he felt Paul’s hand settle upon his knee; he finally smiled when he felt the other man’s thumb rub gently at his kneecap. 

“Kind of romantic, isn’t it?” Paul asked, to break the silence.

Richard snorted, before he said - “If you like that sort of thing.”

“Would you prefer exciting, perhaps? Cosy? Manly? What” Paul asked, laughter warming his tone. 

“I wasn’t thinking anything at all, to be honest.,” Richard confessed.

“Nothing?” Paul asked, and for one instant it seemed as though he was hurt by Richard’s admission.

Richard sighed, before he said - ‘Fine, it’s romantic if you want it to be.” 

“I do,” Paul said, blandly, with his best poker face. 

Richard snorted softly again, but the noise was affectionate and without malice. Now that Paul had placed the idea in his head, he had to admit that the situation was kind of romantic; it was cosy and there was time for them to spend each other without the distractions that they usually had. He’d lost count of all the times that the band had taken away what little personal time they had, with all members kept busy by recording or touring or occasional photo shoots. Sometimes, he looked forward to the times when he could spend time alone with Paul, to kiss, to snuggle, to make love without fear of being interrupted. He sighed, and caught Paul’s sudden grin at that, even though the other man did not say anything. 

Richard shook his head and said - “So what now then?”

“I dunno. You forbade me from talking about food,” Paul said, with an easy shrug. “What else can we talk about?”

“Who said anything about talking?” Richard said, with one raised eyebrow.

Paul’s ironic grin was sudden and natural, yet still Paul did not do anything. It was left to Richard to lean in, to press an awkward kiss against Paul’s mouth; the angle was wrong and their lips were clumsily aligned yet Richard didn’t care. Apparently, neither did Paul, for he responded almost immediately after an initial surprised pause. Richard pressed his hand against the back of Paul’s neck, fingertips brushing through Paul’s short hair. 

He adjusted the angle of his head so that their mouths aligned a little more perfectly and the kiss became more comfortable, yet no less natural. He felt the tip of Paul’s tongue trace against his own when they both opened their mouths; the touch was light, teasing, playful and it was a turn-on for Richard. He pressed in a little closer, and felt Paul smile against him, as the other man slowly pushed his hand over Richard's chest so that his t shirt followed the motion of Paul’s hand. Richard shivered, more from the intimacy of the touch than from the cold; after all, the duvet was still wrapped firmly about them both. Paul smiled again against him, before easing away to rest his forehead against Richard’s. They didn’t speak; Richard, instead, let his hands do his talking for him, fingers trailing over Paul’s body, describing patterns wherever he could reach. Paul made small, encouraging noises, body warm and pliant against Richard. 

Richard eased Paul onto his back, and trapped the other man against the mattress with the weight of his body; Paul’s eyes were closed now and a smile still touched his lips and warmed his face. Richard nuzzled against Paul’s neck, and inhaled the scents of the day from the other man’s skin. Paul shifted beneath him, hands snarling in Richard’s t shirt momentarily before pushing beneath the cotton covering; his fingers danced over skin. Richard murmured out an aroused note when Paul's hands danced lower over his body, to push beneath the waistband of his pyjama bottoms, to cup Richard’s ass beneath heated palms. 

Richard felt the first stirrings of arousal begin to pool in his abdomen, pushing lower still until his dick began to harden. He settled against Paul’s body, and felt the hard line of the other man‘s erection. He ground his hips against Paul's; he continued grinding until they both were fully hard and gasping, aroused moans breaking the otherwise silent room. Richard pulled away, thoughts of lube filling his mind, yet Paul pulled him back with a frustrated moan.

“Don’t stop, Reesh,” he said, as he bucked his hips up against Richard’s own.

Richard paused for an instant, before he was spurred back into action again when Paul arched his hips up against him and ground purposefully against him, awkwardly. Richard shuddered, eyes closed, hips buffeting harshly against hips; it wasn’t perfect but Richard didn’t care and, apparently, neither did Paul. Arousal built higher in Richard’s body, which spiked further still by the feel of Paul’s hands travelling all over his body, and the sound of Paul’s pleasured moans beneath him. Richard arched his back when he came, hips stuttering against Paul’s own with the force of his release as he shouted the other man‘s name into the candle-flickered darkness. Paul’s release hit but a few seconds later, and he was no quieter than Richard had been before him. Richard slumped down upon Paul, sticky from his release and panting harshly against the curve of Paul’s throat. Paul dotted kisses against the other man’s mouth and cheeks, quiet murmurs of Richard’s name interspersed between every little loving peck. Richard smiled into that affection; he returned a few of the kisses, mind still too frazzled from his recent release to do more than that.

He rolled away once he could order his body into some semblance of life again, and waited for Paul to snuggle against him; Paul always had been a snuggler after love-making. Richard draped his arms easily about Paul’s body, limbs sluggish after his orgasm still. They lay in the darkness silently for quite some time, before Paul’s deep voice broke the silence again.

“How about we get cleaned up and do that properly?” he asked, and Richard could hear the smile in his voice.

“Hmm,” Richard agreed, lazily. “Sounds good to me.” 

Paul huffed out an amused laugh, yet neither moved immediately. Instead they lay in the candle-guttered darkness, staring up at the shadows that flittered across the ceiling. Paul was the first to move, every movement slow and lazy as he slipped, shivering from beneath the covers. Richard watched him walk across the room, and was finally brought to his feet when he saw the ghost of Paul’s face turn to him by the bathroom door. Whilst Paul had not spoken aloud, his intent was clear; that one glance over his shoulder was an open invitation for Richard to join him. 

He struggled to his feet, glad for the fact that his thick socks shielded him from the chill of the floor as he followed Paul into the bathroom. The room was dark, unlit by the candle that Paul had left behind in the bedroom; as such, their movements were uncoordinated, stumbling, hands clumsy as they worked at each other's clothing, fingers clumsier still as they cleaned each other up. Still, Richard couldn’t think of a more perfect way of spending the evening, with Paul's clumsy attentions upon him, movements irregular yet welcome against his cock. He was halfway to being hard by the time that they returned to the bedroom, to tumble beneath the covers again, with a bottle of lube in hand.

Paul immediately settled upon his back, legs drawn up in open invitation; Richard prepared him, fingers dipping and curling against Paul’s responsive body, slicking him open. Paul was just as responsive as he had been before, loud moans announcing when Richard had touched him in the right places, soft whimpers keening when Paul lost his breath momentarily. 

Richard eased away once he was satisfied that the other man was prepared enough for him and slicked up his cock, hand fumbling in the darkness, soft moans leaking from his lips as his mind filled with thoughts of all that they were about to do. He laid atop Paul on the end, and moaned loudly when their bodies joined; their hands grasped and hips rocked as they made love beneath the weight of a trapping duvet. Paul came first with a breathless curse of Richard’s name, chest arching up to slide against Richard’s, fists clutching hard at the other man’s shirt; Richard felt the echoes of Paul’s climax rocketing through him, pulling him under into a release of his own.

He rode the last of his orgasm out until finally they both lay still, re-learning how to breathe again. Richard felt sleepy, eyes drugged closed by the weight of pleasure spent; Paul was just as much of a heavy weight against him, arm pressing down against Richard’s waist, breath low and raspingly sated against Richard’s cheek. 

“Fuck, that was fantastic,” Richard muttered, finally.

Paul hummed out his immediate agreement, weary though it was. Richard smiled in the darkness, lips suddenly fumbling for Paul’s own; the kiss was clumsily perfect, and Paul’s sudden chuckles broke through the otherwise silent dimness.

“Love you, Reesh,” Paul said, words lazy yet no less ineffectual for their weariness.

Richard felt surprise at the other man’s admission; he couldn’t remember Paul ever saying that to him before, and he fumbled out an inadequate reply of - me too. Paul didn’t seem to mind, however, kiss immediate and gently loving against his temple. Richard slipped his arms about Paul’s body, every line familiar and warm against his own; Paul sighed into the darkness and didn’t speak again. Richard felt, rather than saw, Paul slip into sleep against him, all leaden limbs and slowed breathing, head coming to rest against Richard's shoulder. Richard followed him into sleep a few moments later, eyes dragged closed by his own contented, and relaxed state; neither man knew anything more until morning broke again, in a blare of snow-filled daylight and the welcome reconnection of the power supply to the hotel.


End file.
